Living Death
by ashwood-laokia
Summary: This is a story about a mysterious boy caught up in the middle of a war between humans and Pokemorphs. The story takes place in fictional regions  Laokia and Aryll  from my Pokemon Role-Play website.


Living Death

Prologue

The dark clouds lit up with the sudden flash of lightning, the winds blowing violently. A vicious storm was brewing, but the distraught brown-haired boy did not care. He ran with all his energy, tears streaming down his face. What was going to happen to him now that his whole family was dead? Who would take care of him? He was too dangerous to have around. Anyone he got close to would die... He could never escape his fate.

Questions raced through his mind while the tears streamed down his face. How many more would die for him? If it was up to him he would have given himself up years ago... he hated seeing others getting hurt in his place. How many of his Pokémon had met the same fate as his parents? He had not even one left and only their empty pokéballs remained to rip apart his already broken heart.

He sighed sadly as he stopped. The first few drops of rain hit his face, finally alerting him to the horrendous weather. Perhaps it would be better if he just died right here. Then it would all be over. No one would have to be hurting anymore. His heart flew into his chest when he heard the sound of approaching hoof-beats.

No! They had found him! Though he had wanted to die, he did not wish it to be by their hands... they would be sure to torture him and use him as a weapon for more destruction before they killed him. His bright blue eyes grew alight with fear when he turned and saw them drawing nearer to him, an army of Pokémon at their backs.

He knew that he had to escape them, knew that if he did not the lives of everyone who opposed his pursuers would be stolen. He could not bear for that to happen to anyone ever again, not because of him. As he ran, his heart threatening to break free of his chest, he realized that he would never be able to outrun them. Especially not since the front lines were filled with Pokémorphs, their increased speed quickly closing the gap between them and their prey.

The boy soon gave up on focusing on outrunning them, and instead searched desperately for some way to outsmart them. Normally, it would not be that hard for him to pull off a clever escape of some sort... but he was tired. Tired and hungry; how he managed to even find the energy left to run he did not know. The wind shifted, nearly tripping him up on the wet and muddy ground as he fought to adjust his balance.

After what seemed like forever, the boy emerged from the forest, only to find himself racing towards the edge of a large cliff. He skidded to a halt, nearly sliding right off the edge with the slippery mud beneath his feet, but was knocked off balance and found himself eating a face full of the dirt instead. He shakily got to his feet, fully feeling the exhaustion now that he had stopped.

Standing there, covered in mud, legs shaking and barely supporting his weight, the boy hardly thought he looked that impressive at all. In fact, he felt rather pathetic and useless. Why was he so special? What about him made him a liability from the day he was born? It hardly seemed realistic, or rational; He had never done anything above the ordinary in his entire life, at least, that he knew of.

'_That question will have to wait till later...'_ he thought as the advancing army came to a halt not far from him, blocking off any possible escape route. A woman that he had likely seen many times before, but just could not remember, stepped forward. Were it not for her sharp teeth and claws, and the plume of fire that spread from the back of her neck to the front, the woman would not have seemed intimidating at all. As it was, she sent a shiver down the boy's back.

"**There's no where to run now... You might as well come along with us. It's not like you have a choice,"** she said coldly, her voice having a strange hiss akin to that of a fire. As she spoke, the fire on her neck flared up, displaying the eagerness she felt at having finally caught the one they had been hunting.

'_Choice...'_ the boy thought, nearly laughing at the lie in her words. Of course he had a choice. Not that he wanted to take his own life, such an act went against his very core being, but it had a better outlook than the pain he would be forced to inflict upon others if captured. Choices. Everyone had them, sometimes they were just a bit harder to make than others were. This was not one of those times; the choice, to him, was actually quite simple.

Fall hundreds of feet to crash to the ground, instantly dead upon impact, or let them take him, torture him, destroy others, and then finally kill him. The former definitely seemed preferable. He did laugh then, the first one that had escaped his lips in a long time. Then he stepped backwards until he was right at the edge. He was not even paying attention as some of the Pokémorphs made a mad dash towards him, or as the woman started to speak again.

He cut her off with a wave, and then he pushed back from the cliff and began to fall. He forced his eyes closed as he fell, tumbling through the air. He did not wish to see the ground rushing up at him; he just waited to die. He hoped that he would not feel it, that it would indeed be instantaneous. That one small thing would be a blessing to him. However, a sharp racking pain to the back of his head knocked out his thoughts, as well as his consciousness.

"**What was he thinking, running off on his own like that!"** a middle-aged man screamed, slamming his fist down on a table. The three others sitting at the table had wisely already picked up their goblets, understanding fully well their leader's rage.

"**Sir, his family was just murdered, a tragedy that is due in no small part to our negligence,"** an older man remarked respectfully, the oldest of the group gathered at the table in the large tent. The leader shook his head and waved a hand dismissively. He had already made it quite clear that he thought the loss of the boy's parents a necessary sacrifice. After all, it was only the boy that was truly important.

The first man was about to speak again when the tent flap opened, a shadowy Weavile entering_**. Permission to speak, sir,**_ the Pokémon asked, saluting the captain. The man nodded, and the Dark-type continued. _**The northern sector has been attacked, but our foes were easily pushed back. However, troops in the south were not so lucky. Many died before enough reinforcements could be sent to change the tide of the battle. All sectors are secure now, but sir, I believe it was too easy. I think something is wrong, that our enemy is planning something big.**_

The captain dismissed the Pokémon with another wave of his hand and an exhausted sigh. **"Splitting the regiments was perhaps our biggest mistake. It could just be our fatal flaw. We cannot afford to worry about whatever our enemy is plotting, our top priority must be to find and return the boy. If the other side gets a hold of him, the war is as good as lost," **he said sadly, to the eager nods of all but the oldest man in the meeting. He was not so sure that finding the boy would be such a good thing.


End file.
